Vanishing Act
by TheCatsMeow8562
Summary: No one new he was missing. It had been a year. They only found out when they had felt that piercing feeling of a fellow country dying, not it's country as a whole. But the personification. And the feeling never stopped. Canada disappeared without a trace, no amount of searching can find him, and feeling him continuously die is killing some themselves. Please R&R. R:M for violence.


I don't wear my colours with pride anymore.

The once spark of ecstasy that I knew, now since has faded, leaving me with a burnt distasteful feeling in my mouth.

I watch with shadowed eyes, as the people that flocked to the streets; hollering in joy and glee for the day that should have been mine…. That once was mine.

A small girl burst through the crowd, waving a white and red flag joyfully, screaming happily, a older boy leaping after her, the flag he had tied around his neck like a cap careening through the air as he frantically grabbed at her before she could get hit by one of the many decorative floats parading down the street.

I couldn't watch anymore of this, it brought back too many memories that I thought I had destroyed years ago; squashed like a bug in the back of my mind, so distorted, one would never be able to put the pieces back together.

I turned and strode back into the darkness, letting my mind empty of the peaceful, loving activities being heard from the street. Steering myself down a dark and empty alleyway, the sound of my hollow footsteps echoing eerily.

The sight of white and red caught my eye.

A handheld flag, obviously stomped on severely, lay discarded in a murky, distilled puddle.

It looked so dirty.

The brown from the puddle had bled into the white fabric, colouring it to a gray. The red was darker, almost burgundy from the mud.

The colour reminded me of blood.

In fact this flag reminded me what I had done, how I had destroyed _him_, so mangled and bloodied you couldn't distinguish who or even if it was a person… or a monster.

I closed my eyes to the images that assaulted me.

The cries of pain, horror, and submission that always followed.

I was a murderer.

No.

I am a murderer. I did things not even the Nazis would have done. They were so gruesome, and horrendous that any normal person would have vomited at the sight.

He was such an innocent man, one that I wish I could have stayed has. But this world has tainted me, and everyone in it.

I'm not surprised anymore, not by anything.

Human's are disgusting, creatures worse then any demon or hellish creature imaginable.

This world was once beautiful, everything lived in harmony, peace rained supreme. But now…. Now it was dark, blood covered, and evil.

Sometime in my long life, hell had managed to reach up and take hold, claiming it, even God above was unable to purify earth. Then without notice earth had developed into something worth then hell, worth then any nightmare, story or dream imaginable.

And worst of all… I befell that fate.

Me, one of the many divine creatures that had been created to protect this planet. So tainted I cast a bloodied shadow wherever I might lead, a trail of dark, foreboding sadness, that enraptures souls that dare to follow me.

I was one out of the 196. But that was before I killed _him_.

Now I am no one, a beat and downhearted soul, walking the never ending road to forgiveness.

If only I had let things be.

If only I hadn't let the darkness consume me.

If only Matthew Williams was stronger. I wouldn't have become what I am today. I would be with them, my comrades, my family…. My Kumajirou.

My gasp filled the alleyway, as a thin, pale hand reached up as I felt the tears that now ran down my cheeks.

Tears?

But that's impossible, I had cut my own tear ducts out, years ago, I still remember the pain, and how I cried blood straight for days, until I was unable to cry no more.

A hiccup left me, soon turning into a gurgled sob, as my thin legs fell out from beneath me.

"K-Kuma…"

I missed him.

He was the one thing I couldn't destroy, he was the one thing I couldn't take away from myself. He was everything to me. He was the part of Canada that still existed in me.

He is the one puzzle piece connecting me to my old self. Back to being Matthew Williams, back to being the Canada that was always invisible, always used as an escape goat… always the one to die first.

That's why I couldn't be with him, that's what why he is with America, representing Canada in my stead. As I play this never ending cycle with myself.

I am cursed, like every other country out there.

Unable to die… when all I want in this miserable hell on earth is to die.

I am Matthew Williams.

And I have killed myself in every humanly and inhumanly way possible, I have destroyed every link he has to his political connections. I don't even remember what the other personifications look like.

The only thing I let myself remember is pain.

And blood.

Because I made it my mission to find a way to die.

I WILL find a loophole, I will find a way to end my suffering.

For I am the representative of Canada, the country personified in a human body.

And Canadians don't give up, we might seem like giant pushovers, but we are determined, hard-headed Beasts. And when we put our minds to something, we will complete it.

I Matthew Williams, Canada… Will Die.

I guarantee that.


End file.
